


Ethics of the worst aid

by yeahwrite



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Canon Compliant, Delphi, Gen, Illness, Medical Malpractice, Medical Procedures, Minor Character Death, Minor Gore in that operations are done, Murder, Mutilation, T-Cogs, because thanks Pharma, offscreen death, pirouetting of into the deep end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-01
Updated: 2019-02-01
Packaged: 2019-10-20 13:35:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17623355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeahwrite/pseuds/yeahwrite
Summary: A very bad day is had on Delphi....For most people there, anyway.





	Ethics of the worst aid

**Author's Note:**

> First of all, full credit to tumblr-user bloodsweatandpreciousmetals for both giving and letting me write this idea!
> 
> Hope you enjoy reading!

 

_Routine inspections carried out, one fader after another, making sure they were no sudden changes and that they were still getting enough energon._

_Which, speaking of-_

_“Ration.” Was all Pharma had said as he’d breezed through the room, intent on something on his datapad as he’d left a cube behind._

_The medic grabbed it and drank deep, preparing for the cycles ahead._

 

* * *

 

 

First Aid was _…not feeling good._

It had been another one of those incidents, where in the middle of a cycle there had been a sudden burst of activity and patients needing emergency care.

The sort that would occasionally rise up, after a lull of nothing but routine care and waiting for one of these incidents to inevitably happen.

And they always _did_.

The dread was never wrong.

There was no doubt about that.

And they had increasingly gotten _worse_ , casualty rates climbing higher and higher of late – a concern once again brought up to the forefront, by thoughts on how many of _this_ batch were going to make it.

Currently, he was arms deep in an unfortunate miner’s chassis, trying to delicately remove a piece of Epoch’s own equipment that threatened to cause a-

First Aid winced and barely stopped himself from doing a nasty – _costly_ \- twitch.

This wasn’t good.

This _definitely_ wasn’t good.

He’d been feeling progressively worse and worse recently.

Initially, it had been passed off as simple _tiredness._

Being overdue on a good recharge.

That excuse, he had only further believed as it got worse and worse as he went through this particular horrific rush of a shift.

But that didn’t explain the- a restrained twitch again as he continued his work – it didn’t explain how hot it was.

Hotter and hotter until right now, right in this moment he felt like he was burning.

He didn’t have to be an overworked medic at that point to know that something was horribly wrong.

He had to be sick.

He knew tiredness, he lived tiredness, and this _wasn’t_ just tiredness.

But…he couldn’t do anything about that right this klik.

No. Now, was _not_ the time.

Now, was the difference between whether or not Epoch would join the ranks the faders.

It was just his luck things had suddenly gotten so much _worse_ mid-operation, but he would try get through this – and then he would examine himself after.

Just slowly, _carefully,_ ease the-

A pained yelp, as a sharp pain burst in his side, feeling like he had just been stabbed.

_Frag. Frag, frag, frag!_

_Not now!_

Slowly, carefully, with denta grinding together under his mask as he did everything he could to not double over, First Aid eased a piece of shrapnel from Epoch’s spark chamber, before quickly working to weld together the wound and prevent any nasty _leaks_.

There was a marginal degree of relief felt at this success, but only marginal.

He still hadn’t managed to fully stabilise the patient yet, every move remained _crucial._

And he really wished he had another set of servos with him right now to take over.

But Ambulon was busy, having been sent off elsewhere by Pharma to set up a triage for those too wounded to be moved.

And Pharma himself might be over there, but he was in the middle of another operation.

He-

Pharma had noticed this going on, actually, First Aid realised now.

He looked to be speaking, the medic could see the doctor’s mouth moving.

But it was all… _muddled_ …the fans were so, so _loud_ and-

Another stabbing pain in the side, as his fans worked overtime to desperately try cool him back down before he crashed entirely.

And _failing._

Another flash, another exercise in great restraint as only a whimper escaped this time – and in reaction as he realised where the sharp pain was coming from.

_Scrap, scrap, scrap that was his t-cog!_

He couldn’t continue this operation. He couldn’t.

It hurt too much, and he was going to slip up and slip up _soon_ in this state – and if he slipped up here, a mech was dead.

He needed someone else to take over – but…

_His knees almost buckled as warning signs flashed up on his visor._

First Aid felt someone grab at him now and turned to see that Pharma had moved over now and started inspecting him.

But-?

“Your patient. You need to see your patient.” First Aid tried get out, knowing that Summit had been in even worse shape than Epoch when brought in.

He couldn’t even _tell_ if he actually got the words out though- everything was- it was so hard to focus.

He was just so exhausted and so tired, and the pain was _excruciating_ now.

Although perhaps…perhaps since…maybe Pharma had already stabilised him.

“Or- or, y’done?”

Who was he kidding, he absolutely would have stabilised Summit already.

First Aid just hadn’t noticed, in his own state.

Pharma was an amazing doctor after all, that much was undeniable.

So, maybe-

First Aid needed to go check himself out. Pharma could take over Epoch from here.

He would-

“Take -Take over here. I need- I need to- I-”

In the final moments before his body gave out entirely, the last proper semblance of thought First Aid had was to let go off his tools, before he took his patient out with him.

* * *

 

 

Pharma caught the medic with ease, having been expecting him to go into stasis at just about any klik when he finally did.

It had taken longer than expected though.

He wasn’t sure if that reflected on First Aid’s resilience though or a flaw in what he’d engineered.

Something to evaluate on later though.

After all, there was the rest of the job to do now.

Only so long before that ex-Con might come back from where he’d been sent off and head right into the triage.

Although, Pharma had to admit, as he hoisted First Aid up on to a slab – this opportunity had been perfect.

He’d _thought_ up an excuse of course, to get the con out - but then an accident had come along and given him an even _better_ one.

And-

A purposeful look at both Summit and Epoch, left unattended as their monitors started to make increasingly alarmed noises at their deteriorating states.

Without any hesitation – having done far, far worse and being too far along this road by now - Pharma simply strode over and turned both of the monitors off, letting their own failing bodies do the rest.

-Along with some more T-Cogs to buy him more time.

More time for the next part of this.

Which, speaking of – brought him back to his only remaining patient.

To which, he went into his things to remove a syringe, containing a red-ish liquid.

One that he then proceeded to immediately inject into First Aid’s neck.

That should neutralise the ‘ration’ just fine, send his core temperature back down before it caused him to burn out entirely.

He did not want to _kill_ the little medic, after all.

Had he, then there would have been no point in this whole enterprise here at all.

No. He’d admittedly grown just a bit fond of the little medic, so why _not_ spare him when he could? Most might, but not _everyone_ needed to die here.

It could easily be argued some sort of _medic immunity_ had been what had spared him, since he and the ex-Con would be alright too, if his virus worked like how he was currently _planning_ on it.

But, although Pharma  might not want First Aid dead, he _did_ want to check that the thing had done what it was supposed to.

Which is why he proceeded to bring out and give First Aid a once over with a scanner.

And-

A smug smile.

_Perfect._

He didn’t even have to cut in there at all.

Although, what else did he expect?!

He was after all, an _amazing_ doctor.

Even if now, he was in the middle of planning something very, very _bad._

But here he was, having done a good deed for a good colleague – and with the knowledge that he could successfully engineer a virus that would do exactly what he wanted it too.

_Such as target the t-cog._

 

* * *

 

 

First Aid stirred slowly.

From feelings to sensations, everything still felt dull.

For about half a klik, First Aid blearily wondered if perhaps he had somehow drunk too much engex before going into recharge or something and just forgotten because, well – he’d drunk some too much engex before going into recharge.

But then, he remembered what had happened.

What he’d been in the middle of doing.

Upon which he sat up immediately, only to swear as a fresh burst of pain erupted in his side, causing him to clutch at it.

“First Aid! You’re awake!” Came a fretful sounding voice.

“Get _back_ down!” Came a much more _irate_ one.

Ambulon and Pharma.

Ambulon having evidently come back in the time that he must have gone into stasis.

But – but if Ambulon had managed to get back here then – _frag._

“How long was I out?!”

Both parties proceeded to not only not answer that, but instead request again that he lie back down.

Something which First Aid reluctantly complied with so as to make any progress here, letting out an annoyed sound as he did.

“You were out a while.” Ambulon, who had apparently waited a significant portion of that while, then supplied, worry on his face as he tapped something into his datapad.

“Pharma said you collapsed only about half a cycle after I left. We were really worried about you.”

Well…that was concerning.

What could have caused that?!

“How’s Epoch?” Was the next question First Aid actually asked though, remembering how it had been mid a delicate operation that he had dropped.

“Did he make it?”

A sigh from Pharma and an indecipherable _look_.

“Unfortunately, not. Like with Summit, his damage was too severe for anything I did to be able to help. That and I had you to suddenly to deal with too.”

“Don’t blame yourself though!” Ambulon came in quickly, his grip on his datapad tightening as he did.

“You were very ill, there was nothing you could have done differently.”

Regardless, First Aid drooped and started blaming himself.

Wondering if he’d just- perhaps called Pharma over earlier or something, then Epoch at least could have lived.

“Which brings us onto my question.” Pharma then leaned over in his chair across the room, drumming his fingers against his leg.

“Do you have any idea where you could have picked up an infection? We need to know before we have a potential outbreak on our servos to deal with.”

“No, no I don’t. I thought lack of recharge-“

“This wasn’t a lack of recharge.”

“- at _first-_ ” Was continued with a _bite_ to it.

“And didn’t _exactly_ have time to self-diagnose.”

“Yes, well, we don’t know what it is yet either. We’re working on that.” Ambulon supplied, glancing back down again at whatever was on his datapad.

Which could not be good with how his worry only worsened upon that.

“But we do know what it did before we managed to treat it.”

“Halt it is more like it.” Came the more cynical doctor again.  

“The pain will ease, but we don’t have the resources available here to treat what it had already done. You’re going to have to wait for that for who knows how long.”

Dread filled First Aid at both the faces he was being given then, combined with the fact that his cog still _hurt._

He had _suspicions_ and none of them were anywhere near _good._

“ _What?_ ”

“It isn’t _so_ bad.” Ambulon said hurriedly. “You’ll get used to it. I…and I can help-!”

“Ambulon, tell me _what?!”_

And then, his friend _did._

**Author's Note:**

> For elaboration on the inspiration which I couldn't say at the top because spoilers: bloodsweatandpreciousmetals, pointed out the very convenient timing in which First Aid had apparently developed a T-Cog malfunction preventing him from transforming, right before Pharma released a virus that became active upon transformation.


End file.
